


The Ghost

by primeideal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Welcome Home Ficathon. Prompt: "James, Sirius, and Remus: And the three men i admire most/The father, son and the holy ghost/They caught the last train for the coast/The day the music died."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost

It takes Remus fifty days to muster the strength to visit Mrs. Pettigrew.

He knows he should have probably done so beforehand, but he figures she has enough well-wishers, enough idiots telling her at least her son died a hero. It never crosses her mind that they might have let her simmer, the same way everyone left him. The Potters and Evanses were dead (there was something about a sister, but...) and no one remembered how close he had been to James, him and James and Sirius.  _Sirius_ -it is still impossible to believe. Everything is impossible to believe now, the miraculous and the apocalyptic alike.

They eat a stilted dinner-at least she's cooking again. The room smells, smells of flowers that have been preserved through magic and while they still  _look_  bright the smell is much more difficult to fix. He takes another drink-not wine, he cannot afford to lose himself in something like that, and he can't quite believe how grown up he is. He realizes that he's been at her house an  _hour_  now, and while he's met her a couple times, it's probably the longest he's gone with someone he barely knows without worrying about concealing himself.

How is he ever supposed to be himself, anyway? Almost half his life, he's been one of the Marauders, instead of just the tiny werewolf. But the Marauders are gone now, and he's just Remus Lupin.  _Dad really was asking for it._

"Excuse me?" says Mrs. Pettigrew. Was he speaking aloud? Probably not, it wasn't like he needed to speak to them so much as pass notes. Or howl.

"Sorry," he says. "Just-thinking."

"Do you need some Floo Powder home?"

"I can Apparate," he says quickly-sure, he's always the sickly one, but he's still a wizard even if he can't be Moony anymore. "Th-thanks." He's not sure what he's grateful for, exactly, but some politeness is required.

He Apparates back to his flat, a tiny place in the Muggle world. And then, in a rage, he Apparates away, to an empty seashore, wand in tow.  _"Incendio!"_  he yells-there is nothing to burn, but for a moment at least he lets the flames shine Gryffindor gold and red before they crash into the water and fade.


End file.
